


Poetry Cannot be Waxed about an Unremarkable Death

by Anastasia_Fry27



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Blood and Injury, Dream Team SMP Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, It's beating a child to death haha yikes, No Beta We Die Like Henry, Pandora's Vault Prison, Rated T for TommyInnit, See never call me cruel, also the beating a child to death but y'know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:14:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29815158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anastasia_Fry27/pseuds/Anastasia_Fry27
Summary: Tommyinnit, the three time war veteran, founding father, twice exiled and twice forgiven sixteen-year old child, dies at the hands of his abuser. His death is unremarkable and clumsy, he is not gifted a hero's death like he was promised after his numerous sacrifices. He loses three lives to the hands of the same green bastard.But in the clutches of death, he may be no way healed, however he is graced with the gift of reuniting with an old friend.[This is entirely about the characters of the DreamSMP, not the CC's themselves, and is in now way a reflection of their actual selves. If any CC in this or any work of mine mentions they are uncomfortable with fanfictions they will be removed / the work will be entirely deleted.]
Relationships: SUPREMECY, TommyInnit & Dream, Tommyinnit & Henry
Kudos: 30





	Poetry Cannot be Waxed about an Unremarkable Death

**Author's Note:**

> So yesterday’s stream, huh? The headache I’ve had all day got so much worse trying to make this transcript as correct as possible, they kept talking over each other like PLEASE WHY WE GOING SO FAST.

“You’re a liar, you’re a liar and really-”

“Tommy-”

“Through your netherite armor and skin I look at you and you know what I see? I see a sad, little man.” Dream lands a punch. “Who’s insecure about the fact that this server’s gotten so far ahead, and his only little glimpse of power in this world is gone. I see an insecure, sad-”

“Tommy-” Dream’s growing impatient, and a part of Tommy feels happy at that. Causing the man annoyance is just a tiny morsel of what the man had done to him.

“Little man, so fuck off you stupid-” Tommy walks towards the lava wall, he needs to move. Echoes of bruises and burns from standing too close to tnt flare up across his skin. A part of him screams to stop talking back, to listen to Dream because he’s his  _ friend _ .

“Your life is literally in my hands, does that make you mad, does that make you sad?” Dream snarls. 

“My lifes not in your hands, Dream. You’re not going to do fucking shit.” Tommy paces back towards the back wall of the cell, legs carrying him around without thinking. He needs to stall, today’s the last day in here, he’s survived, he’s still Tommy!

“I might as well be a god, Tommy! You can’t kill me! And I can kill you!” Dream spreads his arms wide and smiles, but there isn’t a hint of kindness. 

“Do you hear yourself?”

“What does that mean? If you can’t kill me, does that make me some kind of god?” Dream lands one, two punches against Tommy’s face, forcing him to stumble backwards against obsidian walls. Obsidian walls that are closing in oh  _ Prime _ .

“No Dream, I could kill you if I wanted to.” Another punch, a sick crack resounds against the walls and a gush of blood pours down Tommy’s face, staining his shirt. 

“Ok, but you won’t.”

“Do you know why I won’t? Cause I’m leaving this prison-” Dreams fists continue to come down, forcing Tommy back against the wall even as he forces his voice to remain strong. Dream’s knocked him around before, maybe never this much but he’s  _ fine _ . 

“Don’t fucking- stop it, stop it now!” Dream continues to punch him until he’s on the floor Tommy raising his arm to try and shove him away, coughing blood,  _ og that’s what comes soon before the darkness _ , and only then does Dream steps back, only a single step. Tommy summons all the courage he has left, he has to make it out of here.

“Look at me, alright? The only reason I’m not is because I know you’re in this prison. And I-” He’s going to leave. He’s beaten and bloody, worse than he ever was in exile, but Sam Nook and Puffy are waiting for him. He has his discs and he’s rekindling his friendship with Tubbo, Jack and Niki haven’t been around… He’s done with Dream, he’s done with the manipulation. “Am going to scooter out, and I’ll be fine, Dream. You’re stuck in here forever.” He takes a breath. “I don’t think this revival book is real. Schlatt? He’s fucking dead, I’ve seen his grave, his grave is real, his corpse is  _ there _ , alright?” Dream’s mouth twists upward in a snarl, as if hearing the resolution to finally be free of Dream’s clutches once and for all in Tommy’s voice. 

“Then why don’t you go see him?” Dream smashes his head back against the wall, bringing his foot in  _ hard _ against Tommy’s ribs until the boy, the sixteen-year old veteran of three wars, two exiles, and two deaths, cries out, but Dream merely brings his foot into his gut again and again. 

“Stop! Stop, stop stop stop-” His last breath is ripped from his lungs. There is no poetic bleeding out, no sun to set over his corpse, welcoming him into death. There is no brother to sit with him when he wakes up gasping at phantom pains from the wounds, to chide him for being too foolish and brave. There is no heroic hero’s death that he was promised, not even a final betrayal to end his story with a warning, with a moral.

Instead, he is a sixteen-year old war veteran, a child soldier, dead before he can even recognize it himself, curled on the floor of an obsidian cage at the hands of his abuser.

Hope was the only human trait to remain within Pandora’s box, but the God trapped within the Vault ensured that only it’s corpse would remain amongst these mortals.

* * *

Tommy wakes up warm. The ground beneath him is warm too, and… Is that grass against his forearms? He knows grass sticky with blood, how it feels as the life drains from your bones. No, no, he was curled up on the floor of Pandora’s Vault, why is there grass? He must be hallucinating, there is no grass in this lava encased prison cell. But he’s never hallucinated when dying before this, why now? His breaths are coming heavy and quick, his body trembles yet refuses to move when he makes an attempt. Faintly, he recognizes the lack of pain flaring in his shattered ribs; The lack of metal on his tongue. 

Instead, he feels something wet press against the back of his neck, and a loud, heavy sigh. A sigh like-

Tommy finally manages to raise his head, slowly, expecting to be punched and his head to smash into obsidian again, and instead he is met by warm, brown eyes, and white fur.

“Henry?” His voice cracks, but it isn’t painful. Suddenly, the events of the past two years, the exiles, the manipulation, the abuse, the constant state of never stopping moving, constant fear that someone was coming to hurt him, to steal from him, comes crashing down. Here, in an unknown place, ( _ someplace after, you’re dead, _ a part of him whispers) Henry stands beside him, attempting to soothe him, and a part of Tommy he’s kept locked in a box since Wilbur told him to gather dandelions for L’Manberg’s walls, shatters. Suddenly, Tommy has hot, fat tears streaming down his face, and he’s hiccuping, sitting up quickly and wrapping his arms around Henry, his cow who was brutally murdered. In this moment, seemingly alone with the only person left to have never betrayed him,  _ because Sam ignored his pleas for release, and Ranboo was the only person who could’ve told Dream about his secret room of valuables in Logsteadshire, _ Tommy allows himself to drop his big man act, and feel like the sixteen year old child he is.

Because here, in death, alone with a cow, he feels safer than he’s felt since blackstone walls rose around a caravan in the woods. 

**Author's Note:**

> Guys I don't mean to pull a Technoblade and plug my own stuff but please do not let a poorly written Percy Jackson fanfic be the fic of mine that has the most hits, I beg of you, I'm on my knees. Don't let that be my legacy. Anyway, THANK YOU FOR READING!! I threw this together in an hour because a person on TikTok said bet and I'm not one to backdown on my word. Kudo's are adored and comments are cherished!!


End file.
